


Benfica v Sevilla

by justkisa



Series: Postcards From Abu Dhabi [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:25:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1737932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justkisa/pseuds/justkisa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sevilla wins the Europa League Final and Javi loses a bet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Benfica v Sevilla

[ ](http://s1203.photobucket.com/user/justkisa/media/jg_an_bed_jpeg_zpsfe7ae922.jpg.html)

***

The first thing Alvaro says, after he turns off the TV, is “You don’t have to.” His voice is low and rough from yelling. He’s slumped against the headboard, his shoulder pressed against Javi’s.

Javi turns a little so he can look at him. His clothes are rumpled from sitting in bed so long and his shirt’s ridden up giving Javi a glimpse of his stomach. He can just see the edge of the dark lines of words on his side. “You don’t, Javi,” Alvaro says.

Javi could say, _ah, but a bet’s a bet_ , but his side is still warm from being pressed against Alvaro’s for most of the match and he’s been thinking about it - his forfeit - since the last penalty kick, since the Sevilla players exploded across the field in joy. The anticipation that had started then, sparking low in his belly, has curled up through him like a slow, smoldering flame and now he can almost taste it, can feel it tingling in his fingertips, so, instead, he says, “I want to.”

Alvaro smiles a little, hesitant but pleased. Javi shifts onto his side and runs his fingers along the bared skin of Alvaro’s stomach. “Javi?” Alvaro says. 

Javi pushes Alvaro’s shirt up and rests his hand on his stomach. He likes the feel of him - solid strength under warm, soft skin. He can hear the soft gasp of Alvaro’s indrawn breath, can feel the jump of it under his palm. “I want to,” he says again.

“Okay,” Alvaro says. He skims two fingers across Javi’s knuckles. “Okay,” he says again. 

Javi moves down the bed until his head is level with Alvaro’s stomach. He thinks about asking Alvaro to sit up, thinks about getting up and getting on his knees. He’d like that, he thinks, being on his knees between Alvaro’s thighs. He likes the thick, muscular solidness of Alvaro’s thighs. He’d like to kneel between them, like to lick his way along them and feel the strength of them under his mouth. But Alvaro looks so happily relaxed spread over the bed. The cozy closeness of watching the match pressed together still lingers between them. Javi doesn’t want to shatter that feeling - doesn’t want to leave the bed - not right now. 

He pushes up a little and considers where to start. Alvaro’s shirt is still rucked up. From this close, Javi can see the gently defined lines of his abs and the more sharply defined lines of his hips. He wants to put his mouth everywhere, wants to see if Alvaro’s skin would be as soft under his mouth as it was under his hand. 

He pushes up. He braces himself on one hand and curves the other around Alvaro’s hip. He rubs his thumb along the sharp line of Alvaro’s hip and presses his mouth just above his belly button. Alvaro smells like warm bed linens - like waking up in a sun-drenched bed on a summer Sunday morning. He flinches when Javi puts his mouth on him. Javi glances up. “Alvaro?” 

“It’s just--” Alvaro’s smiling so, whatever it is, Javi thinks, it can’t be bad. Alvaro reaches out, like he’s going to touch Javi’s face, then draws his hand back. “Your beard, I wasn’t-- It’s fine.” 

Javi smiles. “Oh?” He turns his head and rubs his cheek against Alvaro’s stomach. Alvaro laughs a little. Javi can feel the rumble of it against his cheek. Alvaro’s laughter is all the encouragement Javi needs to put his mouth back on him. This time he presses it just below his belly button. He does it again, lower this time, and his mouth brushes against the waistband of Alvaro’s pants. 

He looks up. “Can you?” he says, hooking his fingers into Alvaro’s waistband and tugging a little.

Alvaro blinks at him for a moment. He looks a little dazed. “Right,” he says, “Of course.” 

Javi leans back and watches him lift his hips and push his pants and underwear down until the edge of his underwear is banded across his thighs, just under his balls “Okay?” Alvaro says. 

Javi looks at him for a moment before he answers. He’s not hard. His cock lies quiescent against his belly. The hair at the base of it dark and closely trimmed. Javi puts his hand back on Alvaro’s hip and smiles. “Okay,” he says and leans down to lick just under the head of Alvaro’s cock. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Alvaro says, soft, like a quickly exhaled breath. 

Javi goes slowly. He puts his mouth on every centimeter of Alvaro’s cock. He savors the way it pulses and grows under his mouth. Alvaro’s fairly quiet but, whenever he sighs or jerks his hips up, Javi lingers, lavishes attention until Alvaro says his name, soft and awed. 

When Alvaro’s cock is fully hard, it’s long and pleasingly thick, a match for his sturdy, solid strength. Javi knows he’ll never be able to get it all in his mouth. He’s too unpracticed for that. He tries anyway. He licks his palm and wraps his hand around the base. The hair at the base is wiry and a little rough against his curled fingers. He lifts it up away from Alvaro’s belly then he fits his mouth over the tip and pushes down. He can’t even make it down to the top of his fingers but Alvaro makes a low, viscerally guttural sound which makes Javi think that, maybe, that doesn’t matter. 

When he drags his mouth up and pushes down again, Alvaro touches his neck, just lightly, his fingers trailing across Javi’s nape like a question. He pauses and glances up. He meets Alvaro’s eyes then drops his gaze, deliberately slides his mouth down Alvaro’s cock, and waits. 

Alvaro doesn’t keep him waiting long. He settles his hand on Javi’s neck. It takes Javi a moment to adjust to the big, warm weight of it on his nape. Alvaro doesn’t try to direct his movements but he keeps moving his fingers, restlessly scratching at Javi’s neck, like he wants to push or squeeze but is stopping himself. Javi appreciates his restraint. He much prefers to go at his own pace.

He gets more of Alvaro’s cock in his mouth each time he slides his mouth down. Alvaro gets more vocal. Javi likes the low, desperate sounds he makes, likes knowing he’s the cause of them. He tries whatever he can think of to make him even louder. 

When Javi finally gets his mouth down to the top of his fist, Alvaro digs his fingertips into Javi’s neck and says, “Javi, _Javi_ , I--” Javi stays where he is and swallows. Alvaro says, “Javi, you don’t-- _Javi_ ,” and tries to pull him up. Javi stays put. 

When Alvaro’s done, Javi pulls slowly off his cock. Alvaro lets go of him and he pushes up so he can look up at him. Alvaro smiles at him, broad and pleased, and ruffles his hair. “Come here, ah, Javi,” he says, his voice soft and slurred with pleasure. 

Javi smiles. “You won. You don’t--”

Alvaro presses his fingers to Javi’s mouth. “I did,” he says. He pats Javi’s cheek. “So you should do what I say and come here.” 

Javi goes. Alvaro cups his hand around the back of his neck, pulls him down, and kisses him. He takes his time, opening up Javi’s mouth and stroking his tongue inside. The kiss is warm and languidly slow and his beard rubs roughly, but not unpleasantly, against Javi’s skin. He rolls them onto their sides and hooks his ankle over Javi’s. Their knees nudge together. He doesn’t stop kissing Javi and each kiss is as slow and deliciously thorough as the first. He doesn’t start to hurry, doesn’t get more frantic. He just kisses and kisses Javi until Javi want to sigh into his mouth. 

Javi feels warm - too warm but in a good way - and hazily content. He thinks, maybe, he doesn’t care if Alvaro doesn’t touch him as long as he keeps kissing him. Alvaro does touch him, though, works his hand between them and slides it into Javi’s pants. He doesn’t push Javi’s pants down just wraps his hand around his cock. His hand is big and hot and he touches Javi as slowly and deliberately as he kisses him. 

When Javi comes, it’s not a jolt but a warm, cresting wave of pleasure. He thinks he says Alvaro’s name but, whatever he says, it’s lost in another kiss. Alvaro kisses him again, soft and chastely close-mouthed, then pulls away. Javi wants to curl into Alvaro and close his eyes. 

He blinks and tries to focus on Alvaro. Alvaro’s smiling at him, soft and indulgently pleased. “It’s late,” he says. 

It is, Javi thinks muzzily, half-aware that he should probably be getting up, should probably be making his way back to his own room. He doesn’t want to leave Alvaro’s bed, though, it’s soft and cozy and Alvaro’s here, solid and warm next to him. He wants to roll into Alvaro and tuck his face into his neck, wants to see if Alvaro would let him. “ _Hmm,_ ” he says, “Yeah, I--”

“So stay here,” Alvaro says, “Okay?” 

Javi smiles. “Okay.” 

When he rolls into Alvaro, Alvaro lets him push as close as he wants. He falls asleep with Alvaro’s arm slung across him and the sound of Alvaro’s breathing in his ear.


End file.
